


Breathing

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: The Man Who Waits [5]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Angst, Engwith, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: Usually, he would be able to shield his mind. But not now, not with so many thoughts, not when the air is dense with emotions. Hope. Faith. Fear.In a way, this is worse than the first time because he knows what to expect.(Or: how would witnessing the creation of the gods feel for a *cipher*?)





	Breathing

Usually, he would be able to shield his mind. But not now, not with so many thoughts, not when the air is dense with emotions. Hope. Faith. _Fear_.

In a way, this is worse than the first time because he knows what to expect. Even, measured breaths – he has to control himself to do this – but each of them is shaky. Like gasping for air while waiting to be drowned. He knows how that feels; only some soulmasters are able to look into a soul’s past, but any competent one can read when the soul itself already remembers.

Yes, just like this. Keeping focused on details. Letting the mind wander, but along a carefully mapped trail only. Breathe in. Breathe out. A gleam of sunlight under the surface of the water. A gleam of Woedica’s white-adra crown. Details. Not…

_He won’t know, he won’t remember... I’d rather get lost in you… He’s been with her since she was born… Don’t worry, we’ll be with them soon…_

A woman holding a newborn baby at her breast, deeply grateful that her son is too young to understand or remember. Lovers locked in an embrace, losing themselves in a kiss that might be the last because they would rather not know _when_. A little girl, stroking the back of a sleeping wurm, her parents holding her as if they could protect her. Memories of other family members who have already gone that way, the faith and hope to be united with them soon.

The soul will remember even if the mind will not. They will know when because having a soul torn out of one’s body is impossible to miss. No shield could stop what is coming. They will meet again, but will be forever divided.

The machine comes to life, spinning slowly, then gaining speed, and the sentences break into single words and then turn into a constant whisper so loud he can barely hear his own thoughts, each syllable a small pebble weighing onto his soul. Very small, each of them. He can barely feel the burden. And it is but one voice…

A high-pitched scream, slicing into his mind, rising and rising until it becomes blinding and blends with the light the adra pillar radiates with every pulse. There is no way to describe it; how to call a sound that makes one’s very soul try to curl up on itself?

And then, silence. Deafening. His own breath, shivering; blasphemy. This is the kind of silence that should not be broken. Not by mortals.

Another voice, low, coming from and through the adra, resonating in his veins and thoughts; intelligible, for a moment, before their new god will remember how to speak, but conveying approval. Once again, they did well.

Thaos leans heavily against the machine, exhausted. Most of the other soulmasters are on their knees; one collapsed. Elwena, who has been crying through the whole process even if her hands never shook, is sitting on the floor, sobbing quietly. But he must stay upright.

He takes a deep breath, turns and walks out of the chamber in measured, decisive steps. Leaving everything behind the threshold, shoving it into a corner of his memory and sealing it there with skill and precision instead of desperation.

Someone has to remain calm. They still have a few gods to create.


End file.
